Scrawl
by Glacies
Summary: A story of sarcastic thoughts and witty comebacks. And a hideous purple diary.
1. Chapter 1

**:day 286:**

* * *

><p>i'm way too insulted by this gift I was just given. It's official – Lag Seeing, no matter how nice and sweet and all of that other fun stuff he is, is a grade A idiot.<p>

…that's kind of putting it lightly. Real lightly.

He gave me a freaking diary.

**d.i.a.r.y.**

Let's take moment and reflect on how stupid that idea is. I'm older than him and in need of a new bag because Wasiloka destroyed mine, so on my birthday, he gives me a diary.

it isn't even a manly one – it's looks like a normal diary but it's a shade of purple that is suspiciously close to the color of a certain former Bee's eye color. Proving once again that everything in Lag's mind is focused around a central point (Gauche) and that he is merely a being with the artificial intelligence and will to stalk the Letter Bee formerly known as Gauche Suede.

…screw you, Lag.

you're my friend and all, but seriously. You don't go around giving people diaries for their bloody birthdays. Some days I really want to punch you.

Right now the urge is overwhelming.

I don't even know why I'm writing in this thing. Probably because I want to avoid a waterworks show from you if you find out I'm not and listen to a speech on teamwork and respect from Aria.

What?

…I LIKE having my sanity intact.

Even if it's not intact in the first place.

Mock me about it and I'll shoot you with an Aotoge. Seriously. I'm not joking about this. I like having whatever little sanity I have in one piece and useable.

.

.

.

Holy –

I'm arguing with a freaking book.

a PURPLE book.

Hell, its not even a book. It's a purple diary that will forever remind me of Lag's obsession with Gauche.

On a side note, Lag, I REALLY am hating on you right now.

You made me cry deep inside.

BY GIVING ME A FREAKING PURPLE BOOK.

Worst. Friend. Ever.

* * *

><p><strong>:day 325:<strong>

I forgot I had this purple book of doom and unawesomeness. It's not like that actually made a difference though. I had as I said, forgotten about it. Until Lag asked me if I was still writing in the diary.

Me: wait. What are you talking about? I don't own a journal.

Lag: No, I gave you a book for your birthday.

Me: You did?

Lag: You forgot?

Me: Well, about that…

No, Lag, I haven't been writing in it because I, unlike you, have a life.

And because I have girls to flirt with and stupid things to do.

That's ninety percent of my life.

Stupid things.

Girls.

Delivering the mail.

Hell, I have no life.

I'll star writing in this again.

Because a sobbing Lag is a scary thing.

IE, angry Niche is scary.

Lag couldn't be scary if he tried.

Seriously.

* * *

><p><strong>an: a little crack fic to keep me occupied and chase away the plot bunnies. Which character, though?**

**I'm well aware of grammatical errors, this is a diary; therefore it was written like that on purpose.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Tegami Bachi**

* * *

><p><strong>:day 326:<strong>

Here I am again. Writing in this stupid and un-awesome book. Did you know that Aria says 'un-awesome' isn't a word?

Yeah. I know.

It was horrible.

I was given an eighteen minute speech about proper grammar and what would happen if I spoke to clients like that.

Apparently, the end of the world will happen.

Which is a good thing, I suppose. Because everyone knows that I will ultimately cause the destruction of everything good and un-good. And everything else that's in the middle of hateful (me) and goody-two-shoes (Lag).

That sounds fun. I'll take it up in the near future.

on a side note, I've finally figured out that people have no common sense. And even less brains.

how I didn't know this before, I can't figure out.

Okay. So I take care of animals in my free time. And there's this old married couple who are holding a cat I'm looking for a family for, and come up to me.

Old Woman: I'd like this cat in a different color.

Me: There's other cats, ma'am. I'm sure they're different colors.

Old Woman: No, I want THIS one. Same markings and personality, but a different color.

Me: We don't have any cats like that. We can't choose what they look like.

Old Woman: why do you have this shelf model then? –holds out the cat- I want a different color.

The stupidity knows no bounds, apparently.

**.**

**:day 328:**

I'm stuck at – wait. It doesn't matter where I'm stuck at, does it? Anyway, apparently my house is being used as a temporary lodging home for some superiors.

For an unknown period of time.

I DIDN'T AGREE TO THIS.

Why me?

And I can't stay in the Bee Hive, so they clumped the now displaced Bees together and stuck them in houses across the city. Guess who I'm stuck with?

No, it's not someone I like to be around. In fact it's the exact freaking opposite. One, I don't know, one I hate with a passion, another one who I don't know, and a person I haven't met yet.

Hopefully he/she is less of an idiot that everyone else I'm stuck with. But that is some seriously high expectations I have. I'm not even being my normal, charming, sarcastic self.

It's that bad. I'm ready to move out on the streets or with Lag and Sylvette. Wait.

What the hell did I just say?

the stupidity has obviously infected me as well. Somewhat. Not really.

About my new… 'house mates'.

**.**

We have two rookies (the two I don't know), and a certain annoying Letter Bee called Moc Sullivan.

Gah. I hatehimhatehimhatehim.

I'm going to go set fire to his bed.

And his dingo.

And everything else he owns.

And Rookie I is touchy feely. And a player.

He's just as or equally annoying as Moc.

Rookie II is pretty silent.

He's got one eye.

The other is covered by and eyepatch and hair.

And he looks scary.

Unlike Lag.

But I SWEAR TO WHATEVER DIETY I BELIEVE IN-!

If Rookie I touches me one more time-

I'll do what I always do whenever someone touches me.

Kill the bitch.

Except with fire.

Then dump the body in a trashcan.

**.**

**:day 330:**

A DELIVERY.

I'm so thankful.

Words cannot express my thankfully-ness.

Or something like that.

Okay, so I'm at my new place, and I find out that I have to share a room, because Moc has taken over the basement (what? You thought I'm going down there? He owns a poisonous snake. I'm not that stupid. Other people are, but not me.) And there is no way I'm forcing anybody to share a room with Rookie I, because that would just be cruel. And un-humane.

Hell, I'm pretty sure that if I did that, then my body would combust from the pure evil of doping that. I'm not going to try to lie. But really, how could ANYBODY be that EVIL?

Wait. I forgot. It's simple.

IT'S BECAUSE THEY'RE EVIL.

End of discussion.

So, I go to my room –our room, whatevs – and find out that it's this horrible shade of puke brown with tinges of purple. So me and Rookie II (Haven't learnt his name yet.) paint the entire room bright orange and black.

It's totes awesome.

Even if while we were working on it we got completely covered in paint. My hair has orange streaks now. so does my uniform. Wasiloka has four orange paws and half of an orange face.

met Rookie II's dingo as well. He's a fox. And he's stupid.

he's walked into eighteen walls, fallen in a bucket of paint, and has started to chew on Moc's hand. In roughly an hour.

I'm writing this at eleven at night and Rookie II is sort of glaring at me. so I'm leaving.

**.**

(I still hate this notebook.)

* * *

><p><strong>an: Yes, it's crack.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Don't own Tegami Bachi…**

* * *

><p><strong>:day 332:<strong>

I'm on a road. With rocks. Lots of rocks.

Why am I really not surprised by this? Wait – we're in Amberground. The region is overpopulated by rocks. They'll kill us all, I swear.

I'm paranoid

I know

Seriously.

Rocks are freaking scary

They stare at you with creepy eyes and look like they want to kill you – or worse, hug you.

Which is exactly why I threw the creepy rock at a certain black haired Bee entering the Bee Hive as I left.

(…Moc.)

He needs more hugs. I don't understand why Aria looked like she was going to murder me when Moc dropped unconscious on a heap on the steps.

It was only a rock.

Wait – I threw something scarier than a rock.

A brick.

I should be dying from an overdose of evil in my brain by now.

I haven't. Which really really

SUCKS

for you.

**.**

**:day 333:**

It's a bad day.

I can feel it.

Screw this.

I'm not going to write in this thing today.

I feel like a wimp.

**.**

****.****

**:day 334:**

I figure I better write in this while I'm in a cart to go to a nearby town, because I have nothing better to do.

What?

You expect me to talk to someone?

I'm way to awesome to talk to someone.

I'm having a bad day.

I hate today.

HATE IT

I don't even know why.

But this book is starting to tick me off more than normal.

Guess what everyone else thinks?

I'll tell you.

**.**

Connor said I was hungry.

Lag said I was having a bad day. (Damn straight I am.)

Niche said she should hurt me. (Er… no. Just no.)

Rookie I said I needed to spread more love to the world.

Rookie II said I was PMS-ing.

**.**

I slapped him.

Then Rookie I tried to make me eat a scone.

I punched him in the face

He ended up dropping the scone into the open flame on a stove.

It exploded.

_It exploded, bitch_.

I'm strangely happy about that fact.

Yet another thing in my home can be used for destruction.

I'm glad I'm not there.

I LIKE not dying.

**.**

**:day 335:**

I'm proud. I should be. Today, I learnt a new level of self restraint.

Resisted urge to punch someone.

Instead, I Aotoge'd them.

Then bitch-slapped them.

I'm in a good happy mood right now. Or I was. BEFORE I saw this horrible purple book.

I have something against the color purple, it's official. Or maybe something against this shade of purple. Because it makes me want to throw up.

WHY COULDN'T THIS BOOK BE TEAL?

Or green.

Everyone knows green is a manly-ish color.

Manlier than purple. I think.

Hell, this ain't purple it's lilac.

I hate purple, it's official.

**.**

****.****

**:day 336:**

Back from impromptu trip.

That's all.

It's… quiet.

I think I like it.

Now of those stupid kids I locked in the closet (IE, Rookie I, Rookie II, and Moc) would shut up and stop screaming through duct tape, I could sleep.

…still surprised I haven't died from an overdose of evil in my veins.

**.**

**:day 337:**

exploding scones.

dinner.

'nuff said.

**.**

**:day 338:**

my luck is so freaking screwed up. I'm not going to bother protesting right now. It's not like it would do anything, really.

Other than getting another smiley face drawn on my forehead by a serious hyped up on sugar/drugs Rookie I. Who's name is Riley.

I can crack so many jokes with that.

And I will.

But right now, I'm stuck at a house.

It's not my temporary home, either.

No, it's a creepy massive mansion that was owned by Rookie II and Rookie I before they're parents died. Apparently, they're related to each other.

So I could have let them stay in the same room.

…damn it.

And apparently, Diego the stupid fox came from here as well!

I know because I saw a fox just walk into a wall. Like Diego. Apparently, stupidity is contagious. Or we've got seriously stupid creatures here.

I'm not kidding.

I have no clue where Moc is.

I don't want to know.

He's a creeper.

No joke.

…

I have the overwhelming need to do something stupid. Luckily, there's a box of matches over here, in my hand… and I can reach the back of Rookie I's shirt from here.

(I'm stuck with them. Staying in a creepy as shit abandoned mansion.)

Joy.

**a/n: It's crack. Thanks for the reviews, guys.**


	4. Chapter 4

**a/n: I don't own Tegami Bachi.**

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><p><strong>:day 339:<strong>

I hate this mansion. I hate it so much it's not funny. I have this sinking feeling that this place is mocking me. Like the rocks.

…I swear to whatever deity I believe in, rocks are stalkers. The majority of the population just can't figure that out. We should burn them all. It fixes almost all of our problems.

And by almost all of them, I mean

everything

except

world

hunger

**.**

This can be solved by everyone making a batch of brownies and distributing them to the hungry. IT MAKES PERFECT SENSE.

If your logic is as flawed as mine.

**.**

**.**

IT MAKES SENSE.

DON'T QUESTON ME

I'LL AOTOGE YOU.

**.**

**.**

Now that I'm done acting like a spaz, I want to say something.

First, I hate most of the world.

Second, there's a cute girl who works in the flower shop on Nocturne Road. I wanted to throw that in. Don't ask why. Because I don't know.

Third, this mansion is possibly the creepiest place I have ever been. There is moss on the walls and broken windows and pink Pepto-Bismol vomity crap on the floor.

On the floor.

This seems like something out of a bad slasher film. I wouldn't be surprised if Rookie I can shooting around the corner dressed as a chainsaw massacre person.

If he does, I'll stab him. I swear.

I'll probably stab him even if he doesn't.

Y'know, the only place scarier than here is my former pantry. I swear to the Empress, the food came alive and tries to kill me whenever I enter the kitchen. IT'S SCARY SHIT. SERIOSULY.

Don't go in there unless you want to die. Though, I do wonder if the higher ups have entered my pantry yet… I should probably warn them.

I won't, because that would take to much effort to save the life of the person who kicked me out of my house. Therefore-

MURDER IS THE LOGICAL ANSWER.

Back to the house I'm currently in. It's creepy and disturbing and I'd be damned if I didn't want to set the whole place on fire and watch it burn. Like Rookie I's jacket when I accidently dropped a lit match on it.

Accidently doesn't quite fit, though.

Purposely?

Now what re you talking about? I so didn't drop a lit match I had been staring at on rookie I on purpose.

It was because I _wanted to._

There's a difference.

Not really.

Anyway, back to the Pepto-Bismol trail on the floor. Other than the fact that this mansion is completely dark and I have a lantern and a bit of oil and a few matches and something is clearly moving on the other side of this wall and it's possibly hostile because there's blood on everything and it's giving grunts and growls, I'd say that today has gone surprisingly well.

HELL NO.

As amazing as the pink liquidy-sludge Pepto-Bismol trail seems, I'd like to go home and not die.

**.**

**.**

**:day 340:**

…

I HATE LIFE SO MUCH.

(No, Rookie II, I an not PMS-ing.)

I JUST HATE LIFE.

A

LOT.

**.**

**.**

**:day 341:**

I'm out from creepy mansion and holding a fish.

A fish.

He's blue.

He's a beta fish.

His name shall be Alphonse.

He already killed the other beta fish. It was pretty awesome.

Still love my fish.

Anyway, once I got out of the shitty mansion, I confronted Rookie I and Rookie II. Well, Rookie II only. Rookie I was out seducing girls.

And failing at it.

Well, not really failing. Only failing when you compare him to the awesome me. Compare him to Lag?

He's amazing when compared to Lag. Not kidding.

EVERYONE is amazing when compared to Lag.

And his white hair.

And red eyes – err, eye. Yeah. Eye.

Why couldn't his eye be like, blue or something? Or green? Just. Not. Red.

I'm still hatin' this diary with my heart.

**.**

**.**

**:day 343:**

I got a lecture. For doing something completely true.. Apparently, hanging a massive sign out on the Bee Hive that says, 'You don't have to be an idiot to apply, we'll train you.' is not an acceptable activity.

Then when I was told to get out and take the sign down, Dr. Creepy-face-stalker told me to keep it up there because it was true.

Yeah.

We're stupid here.

Then I got another lecture on proper grammar and respect when I called him a variation of a name that shouldn't be written in here because Lag is reading this in his free time.

Possibly.

If he does, I'll slap him. Seriously

Not joking here.

Completely serious.

So halfway through the lecture, I'm being talked about plurals and stuffs. So Aria is like, "What's the plural of box?"

Boxen.

It's obviously boxen.

Boxen is the plural of box, because oxen is the plural of ox.

She gave me this look that screamed 'you're stupid' at me. I get those looks a lot. I wonder why.

So this conversation continues. I learned three things.

A: shouting 'FOOL!' to Aria is a BAD idea. But it's fun.

B: I before E except after C and A as in neighbor and way and in weekends and holidays and all through May and'll always be wrong no matter what I say.

C: I hate plurals.

**.**

**.**

**:day 344:**

Plurals.

They're like rocks. Sometimes you have to pick them up and throw them at people for shits and giggles.

Was that a metaphor..?

I don't know. I don't care.

But plurals have come to haunt me.

Today, I was having a conversation with Connor and he pop-quizzed me with plurals.

Connor: So, Zazie, what's the plural of ox?

Me: Oxen.

Connor: And box?

Me: Err… Boxen?

Conner: Try again. How about goose?

Me: Geese.

Connor: Moose?

Me: MEESE! Woodsen! The meese wants some food! Food is in the woodsen! The meese want some food in the woodesen! The WOODESEN!

Connor: Holy- Zazie. You're dumber than I thought.

That's pretty accurate.

**.**

**.**

**:day 335:**

I feel like a princess right now.

Hell yes.

A princess.

Beware.

* * *

><p><strong>an: It's crack.**


	5. Chapter 5

**a/n: what's this? A PLOT? No, not really. Somewhat. Maybe. IE, It's crack.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Tegami Bachi.**

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><p><strong>:day 346:<strong>

Apparently, I was drunk yesterday.

Yeah…

not pretty at all, me being drunk. If I remember correctly, this morning I woke up and was like,

why won't the light shut up…?

So Rookie I was being an obnoxious little prick this morning (Like EVERY morning), stuck his head in my room, and was like:

DUUUUUUUDDDDEEEEEEEE, YOUUUUUUU CAAAAANNNNN PAAAAAARRRRRRRTTTTTTYYYYYYYYY.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Not helping with the hangover, Rookie I.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

… And yet he still wonders why I hate him.

So I stumbled downstairs and I'm staggering around and the house is completely trashed.

Understatement of the century.

Let me describe the scene here.

Our downstairs has these high ceilings with chandeliers and stuffs. There's nice furniture, couches, bookshelves, and hardwood floors.

Hell, this place is nicer than my own house.

(Once again, logic evades me.)

So I come downstairs, and I'm like-

**.**

**.**

What.

There's a drunk guy I don't even know laying on the floor, as well as like, four Letter Bees that look vaguely familiar.

(I think I was playing Russian Roulette with one of them. I don't really remember. In fact, it was a pretty intense game. I think. Because there wasn't a bullet. Hell, it was _intense_.)

There's one Moc Sullivan in the kitchen drinking coffee, and Rookie II is reading the newspaper. That's normal.

The fact that Rookie II's wearing a wedding dress and I can SEE his eye patch isn't.

And maybe the fact that Moc's looking mighty friendly is a bit off as well. Freakishly well.

**.**

**.**

**.**  
>I feel like crap.<p>

**.**

**.**

**.**

If someone dropped a piano on me right now, I'd probably not notice. Or I'd feel the same.

Suffice to say, I feel like shit.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Wandering through the house, I realized something.

Other than the fact that in one of the rooms is a passed out Dr. Creepy Stalker Face-

Don't ask me, I don't know-

The place is a mess.

**.**

**.**

**.**

…and something slightly concerning happened when I heard Rookie I start screaming for us.

**.**

**.**

**.**

OH CRAP. - -

**.**

**.**

**.**

Panic attack is over.

Well, that was _interesting_.

**.**

There's a dead person in my house.

And it's someone I know.

And none of us remember anything.

Logically, ONE of us killed him.

**.**

**.**

**.**

…Well, shit.

**.**

**.**

**.**

...I say it was the butler with the candlestick.

* * *

><p><strong>an: thanks for the reviews. :D**

**is it a plot...?**

**I don't know.**


	6. Chapter 6

**a/n: IT'S CRACK~**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Tegami Bachi**

* * *

><p><strong>:day 346 –well, later today:<strong>

Note to self: Wrenches in the hands of someone who is _very angry_ because you _might _have crashed into the bike she took eighteen hours to repair while you were drunk, are _really really dangerous_. So are screwdrivers.

We found that out when we came trudging up to the Bee Hive behind Dr. Creepy-stalker-face who was carrying the dead body we found in our house. I would have carried him, but...

When blood gets on your clothes, it

takes

forever

to

come

off.

**.**

**.**

**.**

It doesn't even matter how many times you wash that article of clothing, it still smells like blood. I don't wear clothing that looks like and smells like blood, therefore I don't carry dead corpses with various stab wounds. That bleed.

Because blood smells horrible. Unless its my blood. Then it smells like sunshine and rainbows.

Because I'm _that _happy.

I'm so happy I make rainbows seem un-happy-ish-whatever.

I have more happiness in my little toe than Lag has in his entire freaking body.

That's how happy I am.

So my blood is natural made of sunshine and roses. And rainbows. Wait-

Non-_existent_ sunshine.

Whatever-deity-I-believe-in I swear I'm telling the truth

Anyway, not that I'm done, wrenches. They hurt. And when slammed very very very hard into a certain Rookie I's head, he goes down.

Like a rock.

And he's just as creepy and demented and possessed as said rock. They could totally be soul mates, a rock and him.

Anyway, there was like a fountain of blood. Which got everywhere. Proving once again exactly why I hate blood.

**.**

Then the stupid little mechanic was in our face and screaming at us while waving her blood-stained wrench in the air with a really evil look in her eye. Should I be scared?

**.**

…I think I should.

**.**

Dr. Creepy-face-stalker-dude was excused from this lecture and continued to carry the dead body into the building. No one was alarmed by the fact he was carrying a corpse with no hands, nineteen stab wounds, and was staggering around.

Let me repeat that statement.

**.**

No one was alarmed.

What the hell is wrong with this world?

**.**

Lots of things, apparently.

The rest of the day was spent in a tiny little closet with nothing in it but a really bright light, a table, and a couple chairs. The entire room was soundproofed as well.

And since the person who had dragged us here was the Director and Aria, I wanted to know how _they_ knew this room was here when _I_ didn't. My mind immediately jumped to a bad conclusion.

A half second later, Rookie II, still supporting the near unconscious Rookie I, voiced my thoughts and was punched in the face by the Director.

WHOA.

**.**

**.**

**.**

I'm not allowed to punch the brats, but the Director can? That's so unfair, because I really want to punch Rookie II as hard as I can.

And Aria gave him a half smile.

WHOA.

Was EVERYONE drinking last night? Because last time I checked, Aria never smiles around me. She's always got that look of barley suppressed horror that she's having to deal with me.

**.**

If it was the Rookies, I wouldn't blame her.

But me?

HOW DO YOU HATE THE AWESOME ME.

_HOW CAN YOU HATE THE AWESOME ME?_

It does not compute.

At all.

.

.

**:day 347:**

Horrible day.

First, found out that I'm addicted to something.

THIS STUPID AS SHIT PURPLE DIARY.

I WANT TO BURN IT SO SO BAD.

Second, I have been harassed for several hours about the dead guy in my house.

So here it is.

My confession on the crime.

**.**

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I DIDN'T KILL HIM I DIDN'T KILL HIM I DIDN'T KILL HIM I DIDN'T KILL HIM I DIDN'T KILL HIM I DIDN'T KILL HIM I DIDN'T KILL HIM I DIDN'T KILL HIM I DIDN'T KILL HIM I DIDN'T KILL HIM I DIDN'T KILL HIM I DIDN'T KILL HIM I DIDN'T KILL HIM I DIDN'T KILL HIM.

Happy with my confession, idiots?

Third on the list of horribleness –well, this isn't horribleness, but humorous actually.

Apparently, Jiggy Pepper somehow ended up at our house, got drunk, and wandered back to the Bee Hive to harass the stupid mechanic.

He's a very funny drunk.

For us at least.

:YOU DIDN'T WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH ME YOU JUST WANTED TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO AND I DON"T KNOW WHAT I WANT TO DO BUT I KNOW FOR SURE THAT YOU SHOULDN'T KILL ME BECAUSE I'M A VIRGIN AND WHERE DO YOU THINK HEY GET VIRGIN OLIVE OIL FROM? YOU WOULDN'T KILL A VIRGIN, WE'RE PATHETIC ENOUGH AS IT IS~!"

Suffice to say, that guy was out of it.

Out

Of

It.

Actually, I was pretty out of it as well. I threw up today, wondered why I didn't do it earlier, then threw up again.

And I learned something.

Because someone -(*cough* LAG *cough*) is possibly reading this. (Like the little snoop he is-)

Lag.

Imagine no hypothetical situations.

...that was probably the most smart thing I've ever said.

Hell, did that even make sense?


	7. Chapter 7

**a/n: late and crappy update. thanks for the response – I feel loved in that creepy non-stalkerish way. because you guys aren't rocks. have a Romeo and Juliet speech due Wednesday – teach said I could use my unique sense of 'humor'. should I?**

**disclaimer; don't own Tegami Bachi.**

* * *

><p><strong>:day 348:<strong>

I don't feel good today – it's been six years. it seems like such a long time ago, six years… yet I know it's been barely anything. I still haven't reached my goals yet.

I'm still under supervision, with a guard watching me and the others. They don't know if we actually killed him, because the autopsy hasn't come back.

I didn't kill him.

But who did?

I don't really want to know.

…I don't think I do.

Anyway, back on me being mopey and not feeling good. I threw up everything I ate today. Rookie II had this concerned look in his eyes- err, eye. His creepy orange eye.

Hell, I think I'm depressed.

I honest

to

whatever

deity

i

believe

in

think

i

am.

**.**

**.**

On a side note, Aria left me with some crappy old play scripts to read. I finished one. Something about this guy who overthrew his leader and became a twisted insane sociopath who talked to witches. There was lots of screwed crap in that book/play/whatever the hell it was.

He was almost like me, except that I'm not an idiot and don't have an overwhelming urge to become the ruler of Amberground.

Because that would ultimately _suck_. I LIKE BEING CAPABLE OF INTEELIGENT (somewhat) THOUGHT.

And my one life goal is to go torch a town for the hell of it.

**.**

**.**

I'm on another play right now, and I've got a bucket next to me. Wonderful.

This play is about two insane peoples who are so in twue looooovvvvveeeee that they feel the need to kill themselves. WHAT THE HELL.

I like the one sane guy in it who's like, 'I'm not gonna associate with you idiots cause you're stupid.' He's pretty awesome, because he graced the characters with his insane rambling that sound like something I would start muttering while on drugged out on pain medication.

Because I DO see tiny women in my sleep that make me dream of crazies things and want to kill everyone or do stupider things than normal.

Like setting an innocent town on fire!

Thank you for asking. I knew you cared somewhere deep inside.

…you stupid purple book.

I hate you so much.

So.

So.

Much.

Words cannot describe this hatred.

**.**

**.**

**.**

So. Finished the play and:

OH NO! MY FAVORITE ONLY SANE EVEN IF HE'S AS SANE AS AN OLD HOMELESS GUY ON THE STREETS RAMBILING ABOUT LAG BEING INTELLIGENT GUY DIED~!

I'm strangely upset.

And yes, I insulted Lag.

Live with it.

Love it.

Love me.

BECAUSE I DESERVE TO BE PRAISED FOR MY AWESOMENESS.

**.**

Everyone in the entire shitty play got themselves killed. Good job. Have a cookie.

Oh wait, they can't because they're dead.

I'm talking to fictional characters.

In my head.

What the hell is wrong with this situation?

Many things.

**.**

**.**

One thing in particularly strikes me as important.

This diary is wrong.

And I am right.

Hell yes.

**:day 349:**

Released from stuffy room! Thank you! I honestly thought I was going to die from being in close contact with Rookie I and Rookie II germs. It's like various sexually transmitted diseases. And other stuff.

There is no cure for them.

Bad news? I'm on probation. IE, I'm following a Bee around on his deliveries because I'm not entirely trusted. And who else would be a better choice than _that guy_ himself?

Anyone.

Because Moc is now 'that guy'.

Yes.

He is.

Don't mess with me- I WILL bite you.

A ROCK WOULD BE BETTER THAN HIM.

A

**.**

R

O

C

K

**.**

**.**

And everyone knows that rocks are ultimately creepers and have no other purpose than to stalk people.

Meaning that they are Moc's ancestors. He has the mental capabilities of one.

So speaking of rocks, that one wants a hug. And since Moc needs a hug, I have shits and giggles to go do.

It's national throw a rock at Moc day.

Hit him in the face and get triple the points!

**.**

**.**

**.**

Something's wrong with me, isn't there?


	8. Chapter 8

**a/n: crazy things led me to update. Be happy. This is really serious stuff down there though. Warning- don't wanna offend ya guys. :)**

**...my iPod broke. The home button won't press in. :(**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Tegami Bachi!**

* * *

><p><strong>:day 350:<strong>

I

Hate

This

Stupid

Purple

Book.

HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE I HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT.

…yet this stupid purple book is strangely addicting.

For the record-

Don't do drugs.

Gambling is bad.

**.**

Argh, I hate you little sons of bitches!

Anyway, right now I'm angry. Me and _that guy_ passed through this town on our way to the delivery point. I felt sick as we passed by, because there were people outside of a funeral picketing against a person who had died. People with bright colored signs saying that they were going to go to hell.

After talking with the locals, I have discovered that they have been doing this across Amberground at every funeral they can find where the person who has died is homosexual.

What. The. Hell.

I'm all for gay people! Everyone needs that friend who you can nudge and point to a random person and go, "Hey, since I can't answer this, is that guy hot?" and get slapped for it. Believe it or not, it _has _happened to me before. Think of it this way:

Gay people are like God's birth control. They're a fun, happy version of birth control that actually contributes something to our lives unlike every other scumbag on this planet who is breathing in MY air.

Then there are those people who are just against everything that people have rights for and who were referenced in the above statement as 'those scumbags who are breathing in MY air'.

And that's where the general theme of destruction come in.

I'll be the first to admit it- destruction is a great thing. It's a way to get rid of the old and make way for the new, a way to get rid of something that was a good idea in its time but is now old and outdated and taking up unnecessary space. Like segregation, war, the right to vote, the right to marry, the fact that you can die for your country but still can't drink for three more years, ranging to the serious and the not so serious.

So I think when I see these types of things-

Put them in the shredder!

You see, a human life is very important until it endangers other human lives or does something so incredibly stupid and pig headed like protesting that a bunch of children who were killed by a murderer died for your sins and then goes on and attacks the parents.

When one of these things happens, it makes me somewhat disappointed that these people are still breathing in my air.

Solution?

**.**

Put them in the shredder!

**.**

**.**

Back on topic. These people have apparently been doing things like this all over Amberground. Once again, proving why I hate them with a passion.

The good thing? They're coming by Central to protest!

You see, in Central (which has the most screwed up city-state government ever), these people would not be a protected group. Therefore, if you were like 'Well violence against violence anyway, and I have some time to spare!'…Then that could be a thing.

Not saying that you should do it.

But you could.

And morally, no one would blame you.

It'd be illegal, but still-

_Morally._

I think I'm evil. No, wait, not evil.

Vengeful.

No evil's fine. Evil works.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**:day 353:**

Well, news today. I'm hating on the government. That's right, you heard me.

Zazie. Hating. On. The. Government.

It's practically unheard of! Since I did sort of sell me soul, body, and all worldly possessions except this stupid purple diary and a bush I have to them.

I think it's because I was looking through some old books I have in my backpack that I possibly took from another merchant on the road. Note: I didn't steal, I borrowed. Difference. Actually, he threw them at me.

Anyway, they're about old history before Amberground.

GAH. History isn't supposed to be interesting. But it now is.

Possibly because of a revolution I'm reading about where there was this guy and they hosted a tea-party that wasn't a tea party and there was lots of conspiracies and stuffs. They did a bunch of crazy bitch stuff in that war. And yet the people still managed to win.

THEY HAD A DEMOCRACY.

…I'm honestly shocked.

Well, Amberground.

Let's make a deal.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Give me liberty or give me death. Or something along the lines of that.


	9. Chapter 9

**a/n: sorry, this was postponed because I went on vacation. But back to the regular programing of CRACK.**

**Disclaimer: don't own Tegami Bachi.**

* * *

><p><strong>:day 354:<strong>

It's almost that time of the year. I can't decide if I want to scream in horror, lock myself in my house for a week, or just go out with a paintball gun and nail everything that moves. With bright ORANGE paint.

No, that would be too simple.

Way too simple.

Side note - still pissed off at the government. In fact, I'm so ticked off, I'm going on vacation.

Specifically, away from the Bee Hive for five+ days.

Because in a few days, there is the day of ultimate evil and doom where corporate companies make loads of money by selling crappy… stuff.

IE, Christmas.

It really just seems like a waste of time, money, and valuable time that could be used to do something more productive then shredding paper wrapped around pieces of crap that we won't use for the rest of our lives.

And it kills trees.

IT'S EVIL.

EVIL.

Suffice to say, I don't get Christmas much at all.

I don't get it when people use singing as a cure for a hangover. It makes no sense and adds to your headache. Especially horrible off key, high pitched singing that makes you sound like a girl. Who even does that?

apparently the same type of people who keep stashes of alcohol in their bedroom and roam around the house at four in the morning and have no sense of decency because they're roaming around in THEIR BOXERS.

Holy Empress, I didn't need to see that.

Note to self.

Never get drunk or become that type of person.

BECAUSE I SURE AS HELL DIDN'T LIKE SEEING A HALF NAKED RILEY AT FOUR AM.

Anyway, I'm in a carriage now, heading to a place called Oak City. Connor's driving, and I'm stuck in the back with a bag of mail, two dingoes, and two bags of supplies. In a very limited amount of space. Limited pace meaning that there's about enough space to hold barely anything.

And you know what's in the front of the damn wagon?

In the very front, next to Connor, in the passenger seat-

Is a crate full of tomatoes.

Tomatoes.

people say my anger is misdirected.

…they obviously haven't been shoved in the back of a cart with a panther, a dog, a sack of letters, and a stupid purple diary.

Which I want to burn.

Badly.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**:day 355:**

I want to throw up.

Really really badly.

Because I'm, y'know, _sick_.

How the hell I got sick, I don't know.

I BLAME IT ON BEING SHOVED IN THE BACK OF A WAGON.

-cough- CONNOR. –cough-

Which means no vacation.

And it means prolonged exposure to Dr. Creepy-stalkerface's lab.

I'm swearing as loudly as I can between barfing and protesting that I feel like crap.

It's surprisingly worse then when I got a hangover. Because when you get hangovers, you generally aren't vomiting up puddles of blood all over some random dude's feet.

Random dude's feet meaning Lag's feet.

It was an awesome puddle of blood as well, but then everyone started freaking out and screaming that I'm going to die and blah blah blah blah blah.

I was too busy mulling over the fact that I had never noticed that Lag's eyes were that reddish pink color. Then I realized what I was thinking of and barfed again.

You know, I really hope it comes to a compromise between my wishes and Dr. Creepy's wishes.

Because a compromise is sort of when you wake up and look in the mirror and realize that you're forty and truly alone in this world, like really really alone and that you'll die alone, so you go out and you either do really stupid things or you go and marry someone who isn't that attractive and you know that, and really isn't that interesting anyway – because no one is ever truly interesting – but it makes you feel better to have someone to lay next to in the middle of the night because they're warm and work as a heating blanket.

Except for their feet.

(Women always have cold feet. That includes Lag.)

But you deal with it, and you realize that being semi-miserable is a whole better than being miserable.

_That's_ a compromise.

…I really want to go home.

But now I'm going to go vomit again.

Possibly vomit up blood.

Because I'm AWESOME.


	10. Chapter 10

**a/n: I started on this chapter because I'm abnormally happy. Mainly because I actually straightened my hair for once. It happens about once every three months because I'm lazy. :|**

**Side note. I'm laughing my face off at your reviews because I am the un-funniest person alive. And I'm so stressed out right now it isn't funny.**

**But I really want to write a collab with someone.**

**Declaimer: I don't own anything associated with Tegami Bachi/Letter Bee.**

* * *

><p><strong>:day 356:<strong>

You know, stupid diary, I have a feeling that some people are questioning why throwing up blood is good. I have two answers. First, blood in general is awesome. Unless it's on clothing. Then it just sucks. Second, it just _is_.

Is that even reason? I don't think so.

So instead, throwing up blood means that you won't have to celebrate various holidays with the rest of the Bee Hive and hike through thirty miles of snow to deliver a present.

SNOW IS COLD.

(…no shit.)

AND I DON'T LIKE THE COLD.

Therefore, blood is good.

**.**

I'm really really tired. Dr. Creepyface stalker still hasn't figured out what's wrong with me, and I have continued to vomit up everything I eat and well, blood. Mainly because – as stated before – blood is totally awesome.

Totally awesome is my new catchphrase. It can be used for anything.

THINK ABOUT IT.

Well, _almost_ anything.

**.**

There's another person in the medical ward – well, not my room, since I'm being like, quarantined – but injured none the less.

Guess who?

Rookie I.

He might have happened to imply that I was a girl and was pregnant. I might have slapped him and dragged him out of the room then pushed him down a flight of stairs. And for some reason, the security around the quarantined room was so pathetic that I could get out of bed, walk past the doctors, and do that.

…and then I threw up.

That's the highlight of my life right now. How does my life story start?

I don't know. Probably with

IT WAS TOTALLY AWESOME.

Well, I know that Moc's probably starts with '..and then I threw up'. Actually, almost all of the chapters in his life end with that as well.

…Don't know how that relates to me, but it's like, totally awesome.

**.**

**.**

**.**

I'm really hungry.

I'll go steal some food.

And later throw it back up.

I'm sorry, am I disturbing you with my dialogue?

Because if you are confused or agitated, then my work here is done.

**.**

**.**

**.**

I also feel the strange desire to be racist to the next person who walks into the room.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**:day 356 – later:**

I threw up again. And got in trouble for singing offensive… stuff.. really loudly.

But not for shoving Rookie I.

It's funny how the world works.

As soon as I get out of here, I'm going to punch someone.

**.**

**.**

Side note – I'm like, super-mega-foxy-awesome-hot.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**:day 357:**

My day has gotten crappier and crappier. First of all, Lag visited and started freaking out because I had lost a letter or something.

Which brings me to the question,

HOW THE HELL DID I LOSE A LETTER IF I'VE BEEN COOPED UP IN HERE, HURLING UP BLOOD?

I don't know.

Maybe this stupid purple diary could tell me.

BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT BURN IT

**.**

AND THEN POUR SALT IN THE WOUND.

**.**

That made no sense. And that's the beauty of this situation.

**.**

**.**

So Lag kept going on and on and on and by then I wasn't even paying attention to what he was saying, just letting out an occasional, 'sure.'

That went on for twenty minutes and then Lag just… lost it.

It was a case of a year of pent up aggression that expressed itself in a way that no one will ever see or believe about.

HE PUNCHED ME.

WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY?

How do you punch the awesome me?

That's like, so un-totally awesome.

Even if I was being sort of an asshole.

So Lag freaked , and I just ended up yelling at him for like ten minutes. Until he ran out of the room.

Crying.

No, not crying.

HE WAS PRACTICALLY SOBBING.

**.**

**.**

**.**

I think I had my customary,

"Oh shit, I made him cry?" face on.

Because there's a fact in the Bee Hive. If you make Lag start sobbing – not crying, but actually sobbing – Niche will come after you. And the Sub-Director will follow Niche, who will also be followed by Sylvette and whoever is currently close to Lag.

Sad Lag = SUPER SUDDEN DEATH.

.

.

.

So of course I'm like, oh shiiiittt.

But now I really don't care.

Possibly because there's now two puddles of blood – one of the floor, and one all over the bed – and when Lag hit me, he sort of made me slam my head really hard against the wall.

So I probably have a concussion.

And I'll pass out before anyone gets here.

-insert smiley face-

* * *

><p><strong>an: Yup. Drama.**

…**Zazie, you're like a punching bag to me.**

**Remember, reviews are like, totally awesome.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Every single one of you who have read this is TOALLY AWESOME®. Seriously.**

**…You all make my day, like every day.**

**So I'm introducing a plot so I can eventually wrap this thing up.**

**It's also not very long because it didn't flow very well with another entry. :| Sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything with Tegami Bachi... or BEN.**

**Do not look up BEN DROWNED. Don't. Just... don't. And if you do, don't watch 'The Truth'. It lets him get to you. :|**

* * *

><p><strong>:day 358:<strong>

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO.

I…

I can't believe this. I just can't believe this.

I just can't…

So I wake up today, after passing out, and I see Dr. Creepyface stalker about two feet away from me, just staring at me. Staring at me really intently. I don't even think he was blinking. it was that intense.

Speaking of which, I knew I would pass out. I just knew it. Don't doubt my psychic abilities.

So I get ready to snap at him and injure him very badly before I realize something.

He's not looking at me in that normal way of his (which is really creepy) but he seems almost upset. That throws me off track for a moment, because I don't think I've ever seen him not look creepy before. And he never looks upset with me. That's usually everyone else's job.

And they usually do their jobs very well.

Because it's me we're talking about. The plural-fail Letter Bee. Speaking of which, I regret nothing.

IT IS BOXEN.

Boxes is merely an attempt used by the government to install mind control upon the people. That way they can announce that everyone is speaking wrong and only they can fix it or something else that I haven't figure out yet. Like I said-

It's ALL LIES.

Back onto the subject of being stared at.

So he's staring at me in a really depressed and serious way. Naturally, I proceed to think the worst and ask him what's wrong. In a very rude way, of course.

And guess what?

Oh, while I've been here, getting sick, there was apparently an issue in one of the other Bee Hives. It's bad.

Like I said, I can't believe it.

We only know because this kid showed up, his uniform covered in dirt and blood.

I'm going to give you a crash history course. One Bee Hive couldn't access all of the areas of Amberground because then Bees would have to return across the entire nation for another letter, there are six stationed in the country. One in Akatsuki, two in Yuusari, and three in Yodaka. Each Bee Hive has it's own little quirks. For example, the Yuusari Central Bee Hive has a blue uniform, while another in the island areas of Yodaka has a bright red uniform. There's red, yellow, and orange stationed in Yodaka, on the outskirts of the nation. In Yuusari, there's blue and green, both of which are on the opposites sides of Amberground. Akatsuki has… well, since Akatsuki is from all of the Hives, you wear the color that you had originally worn.

The kid was wearing yellow, so he was from one of the worse off areas of Yodaka. That hive barely interacted with us. They dealt with foreign mail, from the islands really far away.

Let's put it like this.

Yellow mainly got their mail from pirates and they had kind of supported Reverse.

Whoops. No wonder we all kind of hated them.

Because we all already hated them before the whole Reverse thing.

Because they dealt with pirates.

And were liable to kill us all.

Because they're PIRATES.

Seriously.

Now if it were ninjas they dealt with, I would join them to learn about magical ninja abilities that I could use to make everyone's lives in this Bee Hive a living hell.

So, the bad news. Apparently there's something hunting Bees down. Wait, that's nothing new. They're called fangirls and I deal with them daily. Because I'm supermegafoxyawesomehot. Or something like that.

But NO. That would be too simple.

Apparently some stupid Yellow broke an ancient magic artifact of tremendous power that just happened to be evil AND an antique.

Wait. Are ancient and antique and artifact synonyms or meaning the same thing?

I think they are.

REDUNDANCY COUNT: 2

So this thing is called BEN. And it manifested into this… thing that likes to drag innocent civilians into this game inside a BOOK and screw with them and possess them.

Talk about _lame_. A book. There are more interesting things than books, seriously.

I'm more concerned it chose a book than the fact it destroyed an entire Bee Hive by killing everyone in it.

So, this yellow kid came here for our help.

And guess what?

He decided it would be a great idea to bring the stupid lame book monster called BEN with him!

It's true then.

Yellows are really out to kill us all.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I'm sorry for not updating. I was having difficulty thinking of something, but I'm back. :)**

**FIFTY REVEIWS. For the Tegami Bachi fandom (which is quite small), the amount of feedback I am getting for like, thirteen or fourteen chapters is AMAZING. As a gift, I'll update more often.**

**EDIT: Turns out this is chapter 12. I thought there were more. :|**

**By the way, the murder in chapter eight or somewhere around there? Still part of the plot. No, I haven't forgotten about it.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with Tegami Bachi.**

* * *

><p>:day 359:<p>

**GUESS WHAT?**

It's the least wonderful time of the year.

I'm such a wonderful person. I KNOW that. You don't need to tell me that and expect it to be your Christmas gift to me. It doesn't work like that.

I should make a point and say that no, I'm not religious, but it is ironically humorous that one of those books Aria had thrown at me a while ago was in fact, the Bible. Needless to say, I read it and mocked it and might have ended up burning it. So the word CHRISTMAS now exists solely to confuse others.

Anyways.

So... for this holiday that everyone calls the Holy Night but I call Christmas because I am possibly the One Sane Man in this entire world and that is really not saying very much along with the reasons listed above, I had an utterly horrible day. But I'll get to that later. I first have to say why CHRISTMAS (not the 'holy night'. get it right, rest of the world) is normally bad, so then I can go on and say why CHRISTMAS was worse this year. By the way, people are giving me strange looks when I say Christmas, ask me what it is, and stare when I say that it's the most horrible time of the year.

Huh. I wonder why.

Anyway. Most CHRISTMAS'S start with me waking up on a train or in a cart or glaring at Conner/Wasiloka/_THE GHOST OF BOB MARLEY_. Then I go and do one of these three things: A) Go climb a mountain to deliver presents. AGAIN. B) Go climb a different mountain to deliver presents AGAIN. or C) Go climb another different stupid as hell mountain but with Lag instead of Wasiloka.

Occasionally, I neglect all of my duties and me and the _GHOST OF BOB MARLEY_ sit around and talk about 'the good old days' when people weren't stupid and did their work, there were such things like compassion and goodwill, and you knew how many licks it took to get to the center of a tootsie pop.

THIS YEAR, I decided to go on a life changing journey on how love affects our lives and to find the true meaning of life while staring into the deep abyss of what mortal society has become and finding the ability to be disgusted in it.

I wish i could say that, but then I'd be lying, and I'm not a liar. Really. I'm not.

DAMMIT DIARY. I AM NOT A LIAR.

I HATE YOU SOOOOOOO MUUUCHHHHH.

Sorry. This year there was no** EPIC LIFE ALTERING JOURNEY.**

Instead, there was a CHRISTMAS party and I shoved nineteen people down a few flights of stairs.

Which brings me to why CHRISTMAS was bad.

I should have gotten _at least _thirty. more if possible.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**:**day 360**:**

**Recap**: So... I get this stupid lame purple diary and then a bunch of shit happens and I get a beta fish named Alphonse after i'm trapped in a mansion with the pepto-bismal monster and then I totally disregard the drinking rules in Amberground, accidentally get caught in a still unresolved murder plot, and now have to deal with a lame as hell book monster named BEN.

if I told that to a therapist, I have a sinking feeling they would be going to send me to the place with the give-yourself-a-hug-jackets.

(I have a feeling that my dead parents were admitted into one of those places once, but I might be wrong. Hey! Maybe they knew Moc's parents while they were there!)

Which is fine by me. I would totally kill to be certifiably crazy. Because then you can get away with anything.

_Anything_.

Bu there's also a problem. If I was certifiably crazy, then I wouldn't work at the Bee Hive. If I didn't work at the Bee Hive, then Moc and the Rookies and half the people in the Bee Hive wouldn't take work seriously and instead would be like, 'LET'S HAVE A RAVE IN HERE!1!111one! And also, deliver letters." And that would cause a global economic crisis because of a complete lack of communication, so civilization (what little we have, really) would basically crash and burn. _Violently_.

Yes, it would have to _violently_ crash and burn. Crashing and burning doesn't fit it otherwise.

All because of the fact that if I wasn't there, Aria would have no one to scold and humiliate and no one would actually do their work because at this moment, like right now, if you don't do your work, Aria's frustration and anger and annoyance and sometimes sheer horror that is usually directed at me, the Director, or the potted plant in the corner will be directed at you and you would die a horrible death.

Therefore, I have the fate of he entire world on my shoulders. That's not a big deal. Okay.

I can deal with that.

...we're all going to die. I hope you all know, accept, and love that.

_ANYWAY._

Now that we've had this incredibly touching and wonderful life-enriching talk about exactly why the universe works, lets get onto the serious stuff that doesn't _sound_ that serious, but really is.

So... I'm still supposed to be in quarantine, but because I'm a ninja (ie, the security outside quarantine is lax. i love that world. Lax. It reminds me of Lag.), i'm currently wandering the halls of the Bee Hive looking for the stupid book monster so i can destroy it and save the world, become a hero, have everybody love me and admit my awesomeness. (not that they already don't. Ever heard of fangirls? I have like twenty gazillion of them.) Just because I then want to crush everyone's hopes, dreams, and passion that keeps them living when I randomly torch a random town for the hell of it.

Eh, yeah. That's what I believe in.

...

I'm honestly surprised I'm not mentally crazy. Or maybe I am. I really don't know.

So Imma Bee writing down what happens in a few days because i have a **BAD FEELING OF DOOM** and want to impose a CLIFFHANGER that isn't a CLIFFHANGER.

But seriously.

we're talking **BAD FEELING OF DOOM** here.

**.**

**.**

BTW. POP QUIZ EARLIER FOR ARIA.

I think I failed. That's not saying much.

by the way, do you know what the literary definition of 'foreshadowing is'?

It apparently is a literary device where events that will happen in the future are hinted on.

She also asked me what temperature books burn at. I knew that one, but I am getting a strong sense of **ANARCHY** now.

I asked what a portkey was.

she thinks I'm crazy.

i do as well.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**OH! GUESS WHAT!**

HAPPY 2012! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE THIS YEAR!

That's not a good thing, but really, who isn't going to be freaked out the night before and staring at the ceiling all night?

Hah. Not me.

Now that I have successfully finished breaking the fourth wall now, I can stop writing in this infernal diary and continue sneaking through the fortress. Still. Breaking the fourth wall repeatedly. Another life goal off the list.


	13. Chapter 13

**i'm back, my wonderful readers.**

**Why was this update so late?**

**Well, I've been dealing with stuff at home, ie, piranhas, exams, speeches, possessed demon toilets, and a new found love for depressing and horribly written poetry.**

**anyway, back to the scheduled amount of crack to fill your daily needs.**

**by the way, should I do one of my fantabulous crack fics on the ENTIRE ANIMATED SERIES of tegami bachi with zazie as the one sane man?**

**by the way, that bit with alice? it's making fun of how I see zazie in a situation like that.**

* * *

><p><strong>:<strong>day 361**:**

WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE

well, shit.

so, today, I would like to start this diary - no, it's a journal thank you very much Conner - with the simple fact that I, Zazie, ruler and supreme lord of everything awesome, dangerous, and morally corrupting, am now the most awesome ninja to ever be in Amberground in like, eternity.

ETERNITY.

For the record, screw you, Naruto. Everyone knows I'm better.

Because I (unlike you) am like

Twenty

Percent

More

Awesome.

And possibly morally corrupted, but who cares about that particular fact? not me, and there's really no one else who's opinion in this subject matters when I think about it.

also, I'm not stupid enough to believe that the asshole who has tried to kill me numerous time is going to become good again BECAUSE I ASKED HIM TO. No, if that were me, I'd bitch slap him then curb stomp him. Because I'm amazing.

so, today, before we go into what tragic thing happened to me now, i would like to say a few very important words.

first.

Peta kills 95.6 % of all animals it rescues.

No, I am not talking about the peta bread or peta chips. I am talking (seriously, I might add) about the organization peta.

if you hadn't noticed, they're kind of failures.

Me? I kill 0% of all the cats I rescue, plus I find them all reliable homes (eventually)

we should sick lag on peta and let him flood their office with his tears.

except

(there's always an except here, remember that)

That would means the cats drowned, and shit like that cannot happen. cats drowning, I mean. not lag flooding peta's office. because that could very well happen and honestly, I wouldn't care if he did it.

BUT THE CATS.

Look at how I don't mention the fact that dogs, fish, and Moc could also drown. You now have the nerve to ask why? _Because because because..._

I don't care about them.

**.**

Plus, fish can swim. Moc can't.

THAT WOULD BE THE HAPPIEST MOMENT OF MY LIFE.

No, really.

I'm not joking.

_-insert awkward pause here-_

**.**

**.**

second,

the marimbas are awesome.

for that matter, so are pirates.

once again, not as awesome as ninjas.

**.**

**.**

**.**

third, I want to say my parting goodbyes

just in case I don't come back.

Ah, who am I kidding?

I'll come back just to screw with you all, because that is fun.

I just want someone to find this in a year or two, read these, and go

"WHAT THE **HELL**, ZAZIE?"

Just like you all do to me _every single day_. I hope you all know that one day, my already fragile mental security and near destroyed self esteem will crack and I will kill you all in a way that would make that girl/demon/person possessed by Rookie I from the Exorcist go 'OH MY GOD THIS IS HORRIBLE! HOW COULD HE DO THAT? I'M GOING TO CRY! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

ha ha.

just kidding.

_not._

**.**

Aria; you always annoyed me, but in that good older sister/demented as hell mrs. cutter way. For the record, I always could see you going after me with a butcher knife and threatening to cut my tongue out, put me in a pot, and then eat me. I suppose that shows just exactly how much respect I have for you.

**.**

Director Useless: as if that title wasn't enough to clue you in, I do believe that you are without a doubt, one of the most useless guys I have ever met when it is raining out. You also mock my height and have an unholy obsession with dogs, who are apparently amazing, because as you once put it, "Dogs embody loyalty! They follow their master's commands above all else! Be a jerk to them and they don't complain and they never once beg for a paycheck! Trust me, Fuery, they're the great servants of man!" and after that triade, you broke out into a song that consisted only of the words "LOYAL CANINE, HOW WE SALUTE THEE!" and had a horrible tune that made my ears bleed.

Oh, wait. That's the other Colonel Useless. My mistake.

Still.

You're pretty damn useless. I hope you know that.

for the record, I can totally see you as Mr. Cutter, trying to kill me with a walking stick.

Plus.

You're meant for Aria. WE ALL KNOW IT.

**.**

Doctor Creepy-stalker-face Jr.: First of all, I actually respect you. Even if you do scare the living shit out of me every time I hear you breathe. Second of all, I would hate to meet your father. By the way, I threw up all over the medical lab. Again.

**.**

Conner,

You're my bestest friend in the world. I hope you stay happy and remember to stay away from the people who offer you candy if you'll get into their car.

**.**

Jiggy Pepper

Stay away from the fangirls. Please. I cannot lose another bright, gifted mind of this generation because -enter words here-

BY THE WAY

YOU'RE AWESOME.

UNLIKE LAG.

:D

**.**

That Girl From the Flower Shop. actually, I think you're name might be, like, something I don't know. Alice?

Alice sounds right.

Alice.

I-I was, um...

Well, I was, er, wondering if... If you wanted, uh, dinner?

Th-That is... go out? For d-dinner? Go out for dinner? You know, with me?

Go out for dinner-

(shit, dammit I fail at these types of things)

erm, alice i was kind of wondering if you'd go out to dinner?

with me?

(no, who else? the chair?)

**.**

**.**

_-__Every time I look at you, baby, I see something new... -_

I-I-I mean, uhm, it's not like you have to or anything because I'd understand, really, i would, but I sort of uhm, uh... Guh, why is t-this so d-damn hard...

_- I don't wanna sleep tonight, dreamin's just a waste of time ... -_

G-GOD _DAMN_ IT.

DAMN IT, ASSHOLE IN THE HALLWAY. TURN YOUR SHITTY MUSIC OFF.

TURN THAT SONG OFF _**RIGHT NOW**_.

_-I'm all about lovin' you... -_

THAT'S IT

I'M THROTTLING HIM

THROTTLING HIM _DEAD_

HE'S GOING TO WISH HE WASN'T SUCH AN ASSHOLE I'M GOING TO KILL HIM SO DEAD.

**.**

Lag.

Ah. What can I say? Your stupid diary (BURN IT DEAD) led to all of this happening. I guess... I guess I should _thank_ you.

Weird, isn't it?

HA HA NO. I'M ONLY SCREWING WITH YOU.

-_insert troll face here_-

PS, I told Sylvette you slapped a girl. There is hell for you at your place right now. I recommend sleeping on the roof.

**.**

**.**

ANYWAY.

NOW THAT THAT SHIT IS OVER WITH.

BROS.

I MIGHT AS WELL TELL YOU EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED AND WHATS GOING ON.

WHY AM I USING CAPSLOCK? I DON'T KNOW.

REALLY.

Okay.

Know Ben? That failure off a book possessing demon?

Well, I currently erm, am in possession of it. In more ways that one.

MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER.

_**NOW.**_

So, erm, yeah. I have the book. And I'm out of the Bee Hive. Well, to be more specific...

i'minsidethebookandohmygod.

was that edward cullen?

and navi?

shit.

i honestly can't decide which one is worse.

Anyway. So, yeah, I'm gonna have to go kill the book from the inside now.

_HOLY CRAP I'M INSIDE A BOOK._

_INSIDE. A. BOOK._

_**MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER ALREADY**__._

_YOU ARE JUST HORRIBLE, YOU KNOW THAT?_

* * *

><p>I went there. I WENT THERE AND I GAVE YOU THIS HUGE AS HELL CHAPTER (in my opinion). I was also trying to fit a Michael Jackson reference in there but I wasn't able to. THIS TIME. So yeah, thanks for reading.<p> 


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN TEGAMI BACHI.**

* * *

><p><strong>:<strong>day 362**:**

**.**

**.**

oh my gosh. there's a circling bird overhead and I bet it's going to eat my corpse. And then the worms will come out and eventually, the animals are going to take my bones and make furniture out of it and sit on it. And eat lovely dinners.

Anyway, onto something completely different. If you don't remember from last time, I said somethings that were probably important, so you should go read them. also, I killed someone dead because they wouldn't stop playing their goddamned love songs very loudly when I was trying to do something important.

in the meantime, I should probably mention that this (BEN) is plain weird and _you should get your head out of the gutter right now_.

by the way, did you know that BEN is obviously the rip-off of termia and gluttony because there's a damn world inside of it (mind, gutter, out, _now_.) and there are masks that make you turn into different things if you put them on? Also, its intended as purgatory (probably) because edward cullen is here and I daresay he is a grade A asshole.

I'm going to get him a mug that says that.

also, he's a pansy and a weakling and a disgrace to golden eyed Edwards everywhere – plus, I can be more awesome and amazing and hurt more people and I can outrun him.

THEREFORE I AM A GOD BECAUSE I CAN BEST THE MARY SUE.

no, it is not a gary sue, it is a mary sue and I made no typos in that statement.

also, I have more fangirls. surprised?

no, you're probably not. and you shouldn't be because I am ten percent muscle and ninety three percent win. i break fractions like that

**.**

**.**

Also. ONTO IMPORTANT STUFFS.

Yeah.

in the short amount of time I have been in here, I have also promoted stealing, lying, taking drugs, and stealing some more. and probably reckless driving since I totally just hotwired this jeep and am writing in my journal as I go cruising at the average speed of one hundred and three miles per unit of awesomeness. in normal terms, that meant that I just broke the sound barrier and am giving the speed of light a run for its money.

just imagine what would happen if i could go back in time. Imagine and be terrified, little mortal. the world probably wouldn't exist as you know it because Mondays would be canceled, we would all be allowed to use magic on Mondays, Letter Bees could have a union, and each person in the Bee Hive would be required to sing Friday near Aria every day!

_IT WOULD BE SO BEAUTIFUL_.

I think I might cry.

also, I could use my knowledge of future events to completely mess with anyone who dare comes close or challenges me. or I could rule the world. I have been planning to for a while.

See, after I'm done climbing mountains and nearly killing myself over a few pieces of paper with black marking on them and everyone in the universe is done making fun of me, me and Noir meet up and play bridge and do what w do every Saturday.

PLAN GLOBAL DOMINATION.

and how will we do it?

by making everyone addicted to something called the 'internet'. we're not exactly sure what the internet actually is, but we know we can use it to enslave humanity.

anyways, I have totally stolen this jeep. yeah. and I'm so bored and being a safety hazard isn't nearly fun enough. I think I'll go find some zombies and shoot them.

MICHAEL JACKSON'S GHOST: 'Cause this is thriller, thriller night – And no one's gonna save you from the beast about to strike.

_OH GOD WHY._

**.**

**.**

**:**day 363**:**

WE CAN'T STOP HERE. THIS IS BAT COUNTRY.

If you get that reference, you win at life.

On the other side of that statement, don't do drugs. They're bad. Really. If you want proof, go read CRANK. it's about five hundred times more effective than any DARE campaign because there are five hundred pages of all of the horrible things that will happen to you if you ever try crystal meth.

.

So, yes, in the last half a day, I have been attacked by buzzards. Also, I am currently hanging upside down. From the ceiling of a dungeon inside BEN.

MIND, GUTTER, OUT, NOW.

I know what you're thinking. Well, not really, since I'm not David Bowie.

But I do have mad skillz, since I'm writing in this diary with a crayon, since pens are overrated.

**.**

by the way:

I HATE THIS JOURNAL  
>I HATE THIS JOURNAL<p>

I HATE THIS JOURNAL

I HATE THIS JOURNAL

I HATE THIS JOURNAL

I HATE THIS JOURNAL

I HATE THIS JOURNAL

I HATE THIS JOURNAL.

That was my good deed of the day. Now I don't have to worry about my morals making burning everything to the ground hard to do.

by the way, I met BEN. AND HE EXPLODED.

**.**

**.**

**.**

TWICE.

Because apparently _once_ isn't good enough.

And our conversation basically went like this:

BEN: Foolish mortal… you dare challenge me…?

ZAZIE123442465lol: Um, yeah. You blew up that Jeep I had stolen from a family with kids while they were on a picnic. Inside you. (MIND OUT OF GUTTER.) And I was going to use it to run over Edward Cullen!

BEN: You foolish boy, coming here…

ZAZIE(IE, ME): Besides, these chains are heavy and the guards keep poking me in the back with their spears. Tell them to stop.

BEN: What should I do with you…?

ME: There are dinosaurs on other planets. Plus, some had feathers. Did you know that I love dinosaurs? I'm going to have one as a pet one day and cause people to give up on the human race.

BEN: Maybe I should lock you up in the dungeons…

ME: ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME? I just told you that dinosaurs are possibly alive on other planets and you're ignoring me? _How_? LEE WOULD BE ASHAMED.

BEN: SHUT UP, MORTAL.

ME: DAMNIT. PAY ATTENTION TO ME. I DEMAND ATTENTION. DINOSAURS DEMAND ATTENTION. MY FACE DEMANDS ATTENTION. Also, that pimple on your chin demands attention as well. It looks like a small blister the size of my face.

BEN: BE QUIET MORTAL.

ME: SHUT UP.

And that's how that went down.

with me in a dungeon. upside down.

I hope he gets cancer.

* * *

><p>OH GOD ANOTHER CHAPTER. AND IT WAS LATE. I'M SO SO SORRY GUYS. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.<p> 


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